TWD: Ficlet Collection
by PrintDust
Summary: In one story a million are told. My collection of one-shots, drabbles, poems and ficlets. Will feature stories with a variety of characters and themes.
1. LoriRick- Marry Me

Her skin was sun baked under her lips as he kissed his way across a smattering of freckles. She was wearing that white dress again that barely touched the tops of her knees, and he could see her bikini straps wrapped around her shoulders, the knot resting at the base of her long neck. She'd been working at the outdoor pool all summer, so she was lovely and dark and he couldn't resist tasting her skin. She tasted sweet like peaches with a hint of salt.

"If my brother finds us, he'll kill you," she teased, leaning her back further into his chest.

They'd taken to spending their days perched in the doorway of an old abandoned train car that was about a mile and a half from her parent's place. Her brother had used it as a fort as a kid, his name was still carved into the old paint that had weathered and chipped away over the years. She'd showed it to him on his third night staying at their place, his second summer in a row.

Her parents welcomed him, excited to get a glimpse of their eldest son's college life and he was happy to oblige with stories as long as they'd let him stay. He traded tales of dorm pranks and football games for their daughter's soft butterfly kisses and long hours snuggled up with her whenever they could sneak away.

She was almost three years his junior and had just graduated from high school. She was planning to follow him to Kentucky State in the fall. She wanted to be a teacher or a veterinarian, but he mostly suspected that she wanted to be with him.

Rick kissed her shoulder again and hummed in agreement. "He will… for not asking your daddy first…"

"Askin' daddy what?" Lori asked, twisting her upper body so that she was facing him. She draped one arm over his knee and looked at him curiously with her earthy green eyes.

He cleared his throat nervously and her eyes flashed with knowing. She made a small sound of excitement and pushed herself to her knees. With one smooth movement she was kneeling in front of him, a beautiful smile spread across her face. She was buzzing and he could feel it as he watched her, backlit by the setting sun and fireflies that danced in the long grass behind her.

Rick stretched his legs out and crossed them, pulled her towards him. She landed with a soft thud against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. "It ain't much… I'm a college boy and all," he said, keeping one hand spread across her back while the other fished through his pocket.

He pulled out a sterling silver ring with a small single diamond and instantly wished that he could have done better….

His embarrassment was forgotten when she gasped, her eyes shining with tears. She offered him her left hand and he took it in his. "Lori Turner," he took a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

Lori nodded and said _yes_, though the word barely had any voice at all behind it. Her arms slid around his neck and crossed over, her chest flushed against his.

"I'm gonna spend the rest of my life lovin' you Rick Grimes," she whispered, tucking her face into his throat.


	2. LoriRick- Bitter Cold

The car was freezing. There was something wrong with the heating block and they could all see their breath hanging in the air. Beth, Hershel, and Carol were bundled up in the backseat behind Lori who was curled up on the passenger's side. The thin blanket that she had wrapped around her wasn't doing much to hold her body heat and her toes were going numb in her boots. They'd had their first snowfall yesterday and had been caught unprepared.

They'd wound up drenched before they'd found shelter and she was still feeling the effects of it.

She laid her forehead against the window and sighed with relief as the cold glass cooled her burning skin. She hadn't mentioned feeling sick to the rest of the group- they had enough to worry about- but she was pretty sure they all knew. It was hard to hide the rattling in her chest and the coughing fits that had plagued her all night.

Lori's hand drifted down to rest on her rounded belly. The baby was growing despite the malnutrition and she was grateful for the sign that it was still alive. She'd begun to feel butterfly movements that made her smile despite everything else that was going on. She wanted to tell Rick but every time she tried to talk to him he'd brush her off and tell her to talk to Hershel.

She looked over at her husband now. He looked as tired as you would expect from someone who had been driving all day. He rarely slept anymore and his skin had turned ashen. She wanted to reach out to him but she couldn't take the sting of rejection. Not tonight, when she was already worried about how being sick would affect the baby.

"Do you think we will find somewhere to stop tonight?" She asked, looking out her window. She found that if she didn't look at him while she spoke, he would be more likely to answer her questions. No luck this time. The car remained still and quiet.

Lori had to pee, and the cold and jostling car weren't helping. Rick wouldn't be happy if she asked him to stop while it was so dark out. The road was lined with trees on both sides and there were too many Walkers in the forest. When she shifted for the third time she felt her seat jerk as Carol used it to pull herself forward. The other woman leaned over the seat to talk into her ear.

"Why don't you recline a bit?" she suggested into Lori's ear.

Lori shook her head. "And take up your leg space, uh uh."

Carol patted her shoulder. "Come on. You need to get some rest and your back must be getting sore sitting like that for so long." She sat back again, disappearing into the shadows over Lori's shoulder.

Lori pursed her lips and reached for the lever. She dropped the seat back a few clicks and almost sighed with relief. The new position took the pressure off her back and her bladder. "Thanks," she whispered and Carol hummed in response.

She snuggled further into the seat and closed her eyes.

Just as she was falling asleep her breath snagged in her lungs and she was startled awake as a coughing fit sent her body into spasms. The fit seemed to last a long time and she took a deep breath when it finally subsided.

"Hershel checked out that cough?" A gravelly voice asked from beside her. She turned to look at her husband, stunned that he had actually initiated a conversation. He gave an impatient sigh when she didn't answer and cleared her throat.

"Hmm?" She asked, trying to remember what he had asked her.

"The cough," Rick said again, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm fine," she insisted, turning to look at the snow-covered trees. His voice sounded colder than the air outside and it made her shiver. She missed the smooth and caring tone he used to use.

"That's not what I asked you," he sighed in annoyance. "Did he check it?" He went back to staring straight ahead at the pickup truck's taillights. "Jesus Lori, can't you ever just answer a question?"

Her retort started and died in the back of her throat and she found herself fighting back tears. She shook her head. Her throat felt like someone was choking her and she didn't know if she could speak around the constriction.

"See to it," her husband squinted at the darkness around them. His voice was weary and he tapped the break. The pickup was flashing its right indicator and he turned to look at the small hunting store that sat back into the trees. He flashed his lights and their convoy pulled across the road towards the abandoned building. "Chest sounds like you're makin' coffee," he said after he had guided the truck safely into the spot behind the pickup.

Lori nodded and stayed in her seat as the rest of the group piled out of the vehicle. When she was alone she buried her face into her blanket and let the first hot tear slide down her cheek. It was cold by the time it reached her chin.

_Everything was so cold. _


	3. Daryl- List of the Dead

**Requested by Zombieslayer5- This is a bit of a precursor to your request of _Daryl finds Carol_. Hope you like it. **

* * *

The door was still bangin' somewhere behind him

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

He'd lost a lot of people in his life. He didn't to add them up. Not 'cause it made him sad or nothin'. He just didn't like thinkin' about it much. But today, in the abandoned cellblock, her knife in his hand, he couldn't help but take inventory.

It started with his daddy- the cowardly son'o'bitch who'd shoved a double barrel in his mouth back when Daryl was only knee high to a grasshopper. He couldn't remember much about the man 'cept his brown belt as it came down hard on his ass.

After they'd cleaned his brains off the trailer wall, Daryl hadn't thought much about him. He hadn't known any diff'rent at all, really, 'cept that Ma had changed. She'd gone cold after that.

She'd taken to cheap wine, Virginia Slims and her bed mostly.

Merle'd stepped in as the daddy… belt 'n all. He'd just been a kid though, so it wasn't long before he cracked and started bouncin' in 'n outta the slammer.

After the dead started bein' not dead anymore and the whole world went to shit, Daryl was grateful that at least he had someone. But then Merle'd got himself left behind and that was that…

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Daryl looked at the knife in his hand… he'd been driving it into the cement floor for a while now. He'd made a right mess of the blade…

Ma had gone in a fire. He'd been just a boy at the time. He'd spent some time in the system after that. Different home every week or so. Some o' them familes'd tried real hard but there was only so much you could do to fix up a busted old barn. Once the termites got in and ate the good parts all you got do it tear it down or let it rot.

There'd been others in there… but _Sophia_… she was the next one that left him raw. It wa'dn't that she much special or nothin'. She wa'dn't much of anything really. Just a shy kid who didn't have much'ta say.

Maybe it was 'cause of her daddy and the way he'd been, but he'd wanted to find her. So that someone would have a chance to make her new again. He didn't want her to die feelin' like an old barn. But she'd gone too. And now her mother….

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

He gripped the knife tightly and wondered how it was at the end for Carol.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

He looked over his shoulder at the door. Maybe she'd held out for a while.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

He'd accepted she was dead- but it made him feel somethin'. Like it hurt his stomach to think that he'd never cringe as she made a pass at him again. Or have her check in with him again… care. He hadn't been ready for it to be the last time.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _

But the dead didn't come back… not like that anyway- he looked at the door then pushed himself to his feet and started down the hall, clenching her knife in his hand, burying the list of the dead inside him again, Carol on the bottom of the list. No point in thinkin' it over anymore.

The dead didn't come back.


	4. LoriRick- Hate me Tomorrow

**For GMSR who wanted something angsty but sexy.**

* * *

They'd been sleeping in a hay storage unit for two nights and despite the sneezing and itching, the accommodations were surprisingly agreeable in her current condition. Lori smoothed one hand over her belly. She didn't know how far along she was exactly- if she did, that would make things a lot less complicated- but she was definitely in the homestretch. The baby had dropped low into her pelvis and it was getting real difficult to keep up with the rest of the group.

In fact, it was getting difficult to do a lot of things, but most especially: sleep.

But the hay definitely beat the frozen dirt ground or the passenger side of the car. Just thinking about the cramped quarters tempted her to stretch out her limbs and back.

The other perk of sleeping in the storage unit was that it was solid. There were no windows and the only door was solid steel. The fortitude gave the group peace of mind and allowed them to relax their night watches. They all breathed a sigh of relief at the idea that they would be getting a full night's sleep.

Lori looked over at Rick on the other side of the room. She frowned when she found him sitting with his back against the wall, his forearms resting on his knees. He had his eyes closed and his head tilted back, but she could tell he wasn't sleeping. He was worrying again.

They were running low on food, dangerously so, and they would have to move on soon. Leaving the safety of the storage unit would be hard on everyone.

Using the support beam next to her sleeping spot she pulled herself up and got awkwardly to her feet. Her back and hips protested but she forced herself to make her way over to her husband. She was careful as she stepped over the obstacle course of sleeping bodies.

Carl was the last one. He'd taken to sleeping as close to his father as possible… which was coincidentally as far away from her as he could get. She paused for a moment to watch him sleep. Tears stung her eyes and she turned away, feeling her heart twist painfully in her chest. He couldn't stand to even look at her and she didn't know how to repair the damage.

By the time she reached his side, Rick was watching her in the dim red light of the glow sticks that they had strung around the room. His face was deadpan as he looked at her and her heart clenched. She shouldn't have come over, she'd made a mistake… she couldn't seem to stop making them.

His anger had become like the walls of this building; it was his refuge from the danger outside- from her. Rick had never been great at communicating with her when there was even a hint of confrontation, and so they had spent the entire winter in a silent bitter state.

Maybe she was a masochist, she entertained, awkwardly sliding down the wall to sit beside him. He would reject her again, and hurt her, and she'd end up stifling her tears and sobs into her blanket. But she couldn't walk away from him without trying to do something to ease his frayed mind.

"You should try to get some sleep," she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. When he flinched, her hand froze and she redirected it to rest on her belly.

He grunted but didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on the floor in front of them. She wanted to apologize, for everything, but when she took a breath to speak he got to his feet and stalked across the room and disappeared between two large bales of hay.

Closing her eyes she let her head drop back against the wall, a little harder than necessary. She took a deep breath and let the sting of rejection bite its way through her like poison. She knew that he was upset about her reaction on the road, after the farm. And she understoo- it hadn't been one of her finer moments. But if he wouldn't talk to her...

After a few moments she used the wall as leverage to get to her feet again then made her way back over to her bed, her hands bracing her aching back. As she passed the gap into which he had disappeared, she was startled as a hand shot out and closed around her forearm. She pulled backwards and reached for her revolver only to find her back pocket empty.

"_Shhh_," the hand loosened and Lori's almost sank to the ground, her legs quivering beneath her.

"Jesus," she pressed one hand to her pounding heart and pulled the other out of his grasp to wrap it around her belly. She hadn't been the only one startled; the baby shared it's displeasure as it twisted and kicked rapidly. "You scared me."

"Come," Rick took her by the elbow and pulled her into the shadows to join him. He led her between the hay bales, the space so tight that both walls brushed against her hips and she had to cross her arms. Lori couldn't see anything in the dark and each uneasy step made her nervous that she would trip over something and fall. Eventually the walls gave way into a larger space and she reached out to feel her way in the new surroundings. But instead of finding the wall her hands collided with the solid surface of her husband's chest.

"Sorry," she whispered but when she moved to pull her hands away, his closed around them and held them in place.

He backed her up a couple of steps until she was pressed against the wall with her arms pinned on either side of her head. She felt a rush of fear that died instantly when he leaned into her, his lips capturing hers.

Lori was too stunned to kiss him back at first, but when his fingers skated down her sides and around her back to hold her she relaxed and fell into his rhythm. With her hands now free she looped them over his shoulders and repositioned herself so they could accommodate her belly. His warm mouth moved over her jaw, leaving a trail of moist kisses, then down to her throat where he sucked on her pulse-point.

She slammed her eyes shut and gave into the pleasure that his ministrations provided, but when his hands moved over her belly towards her zipper she opened them again. "Rick," she whispered, pushing him back a little. "We should stop."

His sigh was one of frustration. "Why?' He ground out, reaching for her pants again.

Lori shook her head. "Because… somehow I feel like I'm seducing you," she explained, reaching to still his hands. Her stomach was in tight knots and she felt like she was going to puke. He had gone back to not looking at her, his eyes boring into the spot just over her left shoulder. She reached out to touch his cheek but he flinched and turned his face away. Lori continued, "And you still hate me…"

"I _want_ this," he asserted, his body still and unmoving besides the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

Her hand dropped to her side and Lori nodded. "But-," he recoiled at the word and she closed her hand around his forearm to stop him from leaving. "You're not ready to let go of the anger…" She sighed, looking down at the distance between them.

Rick nodded stiffly.

Lori's eyes drifted up to look at his face again. She could barely see it, though her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark. He looked impassive, but she could see right through the exterior to the hurt inside. She wanted to do anything to ease it, even if just for a little bit. "Okay," she conceded, guiding him one step closer. She draped her arms over his shoulders again and initiated their next kiss.

His body molded against hers with her permission. He found her pulse-point again and his fingers slid under the hem of her shirt.

"You can go back to hating me tomorrow," she promised, her eyes blurring with tears.

And he did.


	5. Carl- The Ones We Leave

**For JIBC who requested a Carl POV about Rick being shot. **

* * *

Shane and his mom were in the hall talking again. Mom hadn't been able to get hold of Grandpa and she was worrying a lot, he could tell 'cause she was being real quiet. They'd closed down the school that morning. Just shut the doors and sent everyone home. They were closin' the hospitals too, on account of the stories comin' out of New York and down the East coast. Somethin' about people going' crazy and eating each other. His Mom wouldn't let him listen to any of the broadcasts; she said it was nonsense, until apparently someone caught it in Marysville and then a case in Flemingsburg. That's when Mom had turned off the T.V. and called Shane to take them to the hospital to check on Dad.

When Shane had come over he'd tried to talk Mom out of goin' to the hospital, but she'd cried and he'd agreed.

Carl could see why he hadn't wanted them to come. The place was a zoo, like his Mom liked to say about the local mall on a Saturday. There were people rushin' around and yellin' about the morgue and the cafeteria.

Carl looked down at his Dad and poked his shoulder. "Come on, Dad," he jabbed him a second time. "You gotta wake up. Mom's cryin' and there's people eating each other…" He was about to shake him when the door opened again and his Mom came in all red eyed with Shane behind her.

"Come on, baby. We gotta go," she came over to him and took his hand.

Carl looked between her and Shane then back down at his Dad and shook his head. He couldn't believe that she was even thinkin' about leaving him there. "I'm not going without him."

His Mom crouched down in front of him and turned him to face her, her hands closed around his shoulders. "They're flying him to Atlanta. We're gonna meet him there. Shane will take us," she reached up to cup his cheek and it made him feel like a baby. "It's gonna be fine."

Carl shook his head. She was lying. He could tell 'cause she was shaking a little bit and she was still crying. She used the side of the bed to push herself to her feet and took his hand again. He planted his feet firmly when she tugged on him.

"Carl," she said impatiently. "We have to go. Now."

He shook his head and she pulled harder. He tried to free his hand from hers and to his embarrassment a sob escaped from his throat. He growled at her to cover it up, digging his heels into the tiles.

"Baby," she cried. "Please, stop." She had stopped pulling on him and she crouched down, her face buried in her shaking hands.

Carl looked at Shane who was looking at the floor. He felt ashamed for making her cry and embarrassed that Shane couldn't even look at him. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his Mom, his head falling to rest on her shoulder. "It's okay," he patted her back to comfort her. "Don't cry, Mom. You're right; everything will be fine."

She hugged him back and wiped the tears off her face. He stepped back so she could stand and then stepped to the side when she passed him to lean over his Dad. She mumbled something to him that Carl couldn't understand because she was being quiet and still crying.

He looked at Shane when she kissed him, to give them some privacy. The man who he had always considered to be kind of an uncle was still looking at the ground, probably giving them privacy too.

"Lori," Shane cleared his throat. "You and Carl get goin' now."

His mom nodded and stepped back from the bed, her hand still resting on his Dad's chest. She used the back of her other hand to wipe her eyes and then took a deep breath and turned to him. She took his hand again and they made their way down the hall.


	6. LoriRick- Safe In This Nightmare

**For TMY'reSY who requested some lighter LoRick.**

* * *

Lori snapped awake- her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She looked around the cell she shared with Carol for any sign that the nightmare that had ejected her from her sleep was real. The sound of blood rushing in her ears was the only sound that she could pick out in the sleeping prison.

Her hand drifted to her belly where the baby was moving lazily, still safely protected inside it's mother. She collapsed onto her pillow and turned onto her back, her hand moving in a circular motion in an attempt to quiet the baby. Her mind involuntarily recalled the images from her dream.

_Labour._

_Boiler room._

_Blood. _

_Walkers._

_Maggie- cutting her open._

_Carl._

_Blood._

_She'd died. _

The recollection shook her deeply and she tried to push the thoughts out of her head so she could go back to sleep and forget all about it, but the emotions from the dream kept creeping up. The sound of Carl crying.

She felt her body tighten and she knew she couldn't lie there anymore. She needed to do something to settle her nerves and the anxiety that was growing in the pit of her stomach. She used the bars of the top bunk to pull herself to her feet and quickly checked to make sure that Carol was still asleep.

The other woman was curled up facing the wall, snoring lightly. Lori reached up to fix her friend's blanket before slipping out of the room, her bare feet padding on the exposed concrete. Her hand found her lower back and she arched it to stretch out the aching muscles and the tension.

Daryl's bed was empty; he had probably gone out to do a sweep of the fences. She made her way towards the perch, but paused in front of Carl's cell. She peered into the darkness and spotted one long arm draped over the edge of the top bunk. Slipping inside she stopped beside the bed where she found herself at eye-level with her son. He was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling slowly, one hand curled up under his chin. Tentatively reached up and stroked the smooth skin on his cheek, her fingers tracing a constellation of freckles.

The memory of her nightmare rushed her, making her gasp. He was hugging her, his fists wound around the fabric of her shirt as he cried into her chest.

Her own tears welled up and she sniffled. She didn't want to leave him.

Her heart clenched at the thought of leaving him alone in this world- hurting him that way. She knew it was a dream, but it felt so real, as though she was grieving something that hadn't happened at all.

Lori moved quickly out of the room so that she wouldn't wake Carl. She crossed her arms and wrapped them around herself protectively, hot tears sliding down her cheeks. Her heart felt like someone had wrapped a fist around it and she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

She needed some air.

She made her way down the stairs slowly, nervous about negotiating them in the dark when she couldn't see her feet anymore. The cement was a little bit cold when she reached the bottom and she hesitated before stepping down onto it fully. Lori considered going back up to her cell to get some shoes, but the truth was that her hips and back were killing her. The thought of climbing all the way back upstairs made her cringe so she abandoned the idea and made her way towards the door.

Lori paused beside the mattress on the floor that her husband had been using as a bed. Her mind flashed back to the conversation they had had the day before out on the catwalk. She moved her cheek to her shoulder as she had done that day and tried to recall the feeling of his touch. Her tears soaked into the soft fabric of her shirt and she sniffled again.

"Lori?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, still on edge from her nightmare.

"Jesus, Lori- what are you doing?" Rick pushed himself up into a sitting position, bracing himself with his arms. "Is it the baby?"

Lori shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She was still sniffling and she went back to hugging herself, cold despite the hot Georgia summer air. He was sitting there, peering at her through the dark and she realized that he was waiting for an explanation. She took a deep breath. "No," she declared. "I just- I had a bad dream." Her voice waivered.

"A dream…" Rick said incredulously. He reached up to push his hand through his hair and he blew out a long breath of air.

Lori felt heat rush to her cheeks and she felt ridiculous and embarrassed for having woken him at all. "I'm going to go back to my cell," she paused mid-turn. "I'm sorry, Rick," she apologized, starting to head back towards the stairs.

"Lori," he called her name, causing her to freeze. "Come."

At first she was shocked by his order, and then confused about what he meant. But when she turned around to see him shift over on the bed and lift the sheet she understood. Relief flooded her body and she nodded, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. She was so grateful to this man for his good heart.

Her belly made it awkward for her to get to the floor and Rick reached out to steady her. His arm guided her onto the mattress and she laid down with her back to him, barely making contact. "I won't stay long, I just-,"

Rick shushed her and arranged himself so that he was spooning her from behind, one arm under her head, the other wrapped around her middle. He pressed a kiss to her ear and then another to her shoulder.

"Thank you," Lori whispered, closing her eyes. A feeling of warmth and being safe drifted over her. It had been so long since she had felt this way.

She was answered by the sound of his even breathing as he had already fallen back to sleep. She wondered if he felt the same way.


	7. LoriRickShane- The Luckiest Man

**Requested by GMSR who wanted a Rick and Lori backstory piece.**

* * *

Rick could barely hear himself thinking for the music and the sounds of their wedding guests chatting around him. He had given up trying to actually hear what his new brother-in-law was saying, settling on nodding every few minutes to seem interested. He loved Charlie like his own blood, but the guy couldn't hold his liquor any better now than he'd been able to in college. Once he got a few shots in him he'd go off for hours about any old sports game he'd ever seen.

Luckily, Charlie was far gone enough that he hadn't noticed his conversation partner's lack of enthusiasm. This gave Rick the opportunity to scan the crowd for his new wife. He spotted her in the corner speaking to his sister, a champagne flute balanced in her delicate fingers.

She looked beautiful with her hair curled over her shoulders. She'd pinned part of it back with little silver clasps, but she'd left it mostly down, just how he liked it. She was laughing at something, her other hand resting on her waist; she'd picked a lace gown with little pearls on it.

He tore his eyes away from her to check in with Charlie who hadn't seemed to notice his distraction.

Rick turned back to watch Lori, tempted to go to her and leave Charlie talkin' to himself. But he couldn't bring himself to move. All he could seem to do was watch her. The quirk of her lips- painted pink… the way her pearl necklace traced the shape of her collarbone. The way she kept glancing at her wedding band, her green eyes glinting with excitement.

Suddenly a taller and broader figure stepped into his line of sight. Rick felt disappointed until he saw that it was his best man. He watched as Shane stooped down to speak directly into Lori's ear. She moved around him and nodded as he took her arm then led her out onto the dance floor.

The two slipped easily into each other's arms and Lori scrunched her nose slightly when Shane's hands rested a little lower than she was obviously comfortable with. She gave him a stern look and lifted his arms by the wrists until his hands were secured on her waist.

Rick watched the little exchange and laughed softly. Shane always found his hands in places where they shouldn't be. He was lucky to have such a lady there to put him in his place.

As he observed the scene before him: his best friend, his beautiful new wife… his family, Rick was overcome by joy. He was the luckiest man in the world tonight.


	8. Shane- Fragmented

Written for kitsune79.

* * *

It had been a long time since he had been allowed out. Not since the incident with Dale and the guns. The other's didn't think it was safe and so they held him back like a caged tiger that was forced to impotently pace and watch, waiting for an opportunity to spring out. They thought he'd done too much damage already: when he'd pounded Ed's face into a bloody mess, and when he'd killed Otis. But the opportunity to escape had come today… he'd pushed hard against the restraints and took control, ignoring the others as they cried out in outrage.

_"You're going to get us all killed!_"They complained loudly in unison, but he ignored them and pressed on, leading Rick further away from the group. Tonight he would put an end to all of this bullshit. Tonight he would take what was his. This was his group, his world, his woman and his baby.

The other one insisted that he could do it, that they didn't have to kill Rick. He's the one who'd worked as a cop for years, so they called him Copper. He claimed that he'd had success before in winning Lori's affections, and that he could do it again. He'd almost had her the other night after the car accident. And during their talk just that morning, by the windmill. He said he just needed more time. Shane thought he was weak and that his partnership with Rick had clouded his judgment.

"_Will someone get him back in here_?" Copper was yelling. "_It's gonna be the same thing with Shelly."_

"_Shut up,_" Shane barked back, watching as Rick turned around to address him.

The voices quieted for a moment, until a more timid one piped up. They called him Pip. Shane wasn't sure why. He hadn't named him.

"_Don't worry_," Pip whispered directly in his ear so the others couldn't hear. Even though they all knew that they could all hear everything. "_I won't tell anyone about Shelly. She deserved it_," he assured Shane. "_Leaving those lights on all the time, silly bitch_."

Judge piped in next, shoving Pip to the back. He was always so fucking pushy, acting like he was always right. "_No one deserves a knife in the chest… Jesus. Do you hear yourselves? You're as crazy as Shane, Pip_."

Pip scoffed and elbowed his way to the front again. "_Well, I think we gave her a fine burial_," he surmised. "_She always liked the garden_," he nodded. "_She can see it nicely from behind the garage_," he insisted, scowling at The Judge.

Shane ignored them all and focused on Rick who had stopped a short distance ahead, his back to him. They'd made small talk, Rick clarifying Shane's story all the while, his voice and features laced with suspicion.

Their breaths bellowed out before them and hung in the air like smoke. The farm was dead quiet around them, everything a shade of black or blue in the night. It was cold enough to nip his ears bitterly as the silence stretched out between them.

Finally, Rick slid his gun back into the holster on his hip. "So… This is where you planned to do it…"


	9. DarylCarl- Too Many Questions

Written for ZombieSlayer5.

* * *

Daryl looked up from the tomato soup that he was shoveling into his mouth. The kid was looking at him again, a question written on his face. The Redneck looked around the otherwise empty cafeteria for someone to save him.

Figured no one else would be around. They were all runnin' 'round after the baby and Hershel.

"Why don't you want to sleep in a cell?" Carl asked, stirring his soup. Kid hadn't eaten much since his Ma'd died. He mostly just stared at his food until it went cold then wandered off.

"I got the claus- colo- I don't like small places," Daryl answered tossing his bowl onto the table. He brushed cracker crumbs off his hands and got to his feet, picking up his crossbow. He needed to get outside and pick off some of the Walker's that were pilin' up on the other side of the fence 'fore they pushed the damn thing over.

Carl tilted his head. "Claustrophobia?"

Daryl squinted at the kid. "Where'd you learn a word like that?"

Getting up from his seat, Carl started cleaning up the table, shrugging. "School… Is it because you went to jail before?"

"Why'd you guess that?" Daryl asked, lifting one leg to rest on a bolted seat as he checked his weapon. He was gonna need some more arrows soon. Figured he'd do a run to that surplus store later… see what else was there too.

Carl shrugged again and looked at Daryl's boot, his face stoic. The boy's mouth twitched though and he looked up to meet Daryl's eyes. "That's my mom's seat," he said, his voice low.

The Redneck looked down at where his foot was restin'. "She ain't gonna need it no more," he said, leaving his foot where it was. "It sucks, but ya best accept it."

Carl nodded and looked away towards the windows, swallowing hard. After a deep breath he looked back to Daryl. "You seem kind of like the jail type. That's all."

Daryl chuckled, "I do, huh?"

"So what did you do?"

His eyes flicked over the kid, starting with his boots and ending at the tip of his Sheriff's hat. "I killed a kid. 'Bout your age…"

Carl's eyebrows twitched but he didn't budge. "You're lying…" he sighed decidedly, though Daryl could hear the nervous waiver in his voice.

"Nope," Daryl dropped his foot and slid his crossbow over his shoulder. "Asked too many damn questions all the time," he explained, reaching forward to rest a hand on Carl's shoulder. "I couldn't take it no more."

The boy flinched and looked down at the large hand resting on him. Finally he looked up to meet Daryl's eyes and nodded. "Can I go out to the fence with you? Maybe you can show me how to use your crossbow."

"In hell!" Daryl scoffed. "This is my signature," he gave the kid a light shove, knocking him backwards a few steps.

Carl found his footing quickly and straightened up. He nodded, his face turning glum again, his shoulder's slumping.

The Redneck rolled his eyes. _Damnit_. He was in the right mind to tell the kid to go to hell, but he couldn't do it. He'd just lost his mother and his did wasn't doin' too hot either. "Get your shit together and I'll meet you outside," Daryl ordered, heading for the door. "But if you ask too many questions-," he warned, turning around to jab a finger at the kid.

The boy froze, watching him wide-eyed, his jacket half on.

Daryl used his finger to draw a line alone his own throat, ear to ear. With his point made he stalked out of the room.

Over his shoulder Carl relaxed and shook his head, a small smile forming.


	10. Lori- The Word

Written for GMSR who has a farm full of angsty plot bunnies that she insists on unleashing on me.

**I have a new Facebook for my Fanfiction. Feel free to add 'PrintDust Fanfiction' for polls, announcements, challenges, and opportunities to submit your own prompts and requests. It will be fun to build some community, so please join me. **

* * *

Lori couldn't remember exactly when he had started to pull away. Maybe it was because they had long since lost track of time; each day seemed to blend into the next until they weren't sure if it had been a week or a month. The weather was a clue. It had gotten cold enough that they had had to raid a local Walmart to find coats and gloves. And her growing belly was an indicator that it had to be at least late January- maybe even early February.

The distance between them had started out with her being the only one to initiate hugs and conversations. Eventually his answers became one worded, until he didn't speak to her at all.

If there was one thing she had promised herself from the day she had found out about him, it was that she would be an excellent mother to him. She would always make time to teach him, show him affection, and tell him how much she loved him. She figured if she could show him that she loved him, that that would be enough.

She hadn't anticipated that in the end it would be she that would be rejected. That it would be she who would be locked out and pushed away, so far that she couldn't even reach him anymore.

Every cold shoulder, every unanswered question stung like the harsh winter wind, whipping through her, driving into her chest like a spike.

And then he had said the word. The first time the word slipped from his mouth it sounded like a breath of air. She wasn't even sure she'd heard it at all as he'd muttered it while he stalked away from her. "Whore."

She'd wanted to reach out and grab his shoulder, spin him around and shake him. She wanted to demand to know where he had heard that word… and how he had connected it to her. But instead she'd stood frozen, her hand curled around the swell of her belly, her breath jammed tightly into her chest.

After she'd recovered she'd looked around their camp, at their group. She wondered if one of them had said it, or if Carl had known it all along.

"You'll pass out if you don't breathe," a soothing voice said from behind her as a hand rested against her back.

Lori forced herself to push the air out of her lungs and she nodded, fighting back tears of anger, shame, and humiliation. She wrapped herself up in a hug and closed her eyes against the world, trying to reign in her emotions as they assaulted her, slamming into her chest with each beat of her aching heart.

Carol had wrapped her into a one-armed hug and was walking her across the camp towards the fire, still rubbing her back. "He didn't mean it," she assured Lori. "He's just picking up on the tension between you and Rick."

Lori nodded, "Yeah." She used her thumb to wipe the tears out of her eyes. She looked over at Carl who was watching her as he stood next to Beth, his face pale and dispassionate.

"Why don't you sit down for a minute?" Carol gave her a squeeze and lowered her onto an upturned bucket. "It's been a long day."

Lori felt her chest shudder as a sob rattled inside her, but she held it in. "Is that what you all think?" She asked, looking up at the short-haired woman. "Of me?"

The other woman kneeled down in front of her so that they were at eye-level. Her face was full of warmth and concern as she reached out to rest her hand on Lori's shoulder. "We're survivors," Carol said certainly. "We're all just doing what we have to in order to keep going. There can't be any room for judgment in that."

"I don't know how to make him love me again," Lori said in a soft voice… looking to Carl, and then Rick. "I don't know how to put it all back together."


	11. Rick&Michonne- Call Me Crazy

**Requested by Deirdre who wanted a Rick/Michonne moment. **

**To make your own request friend me on Facebook at "PrintDust Fanfiction" and submit a review. Thanks. **

* * *

Rick's ass hurt from sitting on the concrete floor and part of the workbench he was leaning on was digging into his shoulder. His toes had long gone numb but he couldn't bring himself to get up and move. He'd been waiting for hours, his fingers twisted up in the black phone cord.

The sun would be coming up soon, and they would be returning to Woodbury to get Daryl. The group couldn't take another loss, not so soon after Lori and T, hell, even Oscar. They were dying, one by one, and he didn't know what to do about.

The phone rattled as he picked up the handset again and held it to his ear only to hear silence. He didn't want to admit what he was hoping for. If he did, what kind of a man would that make him? Hell, maybe desperately wishing you would have a psychological break was crazy enough in itself… He just needed to hear her voice again. Just one more time. He needed to know he was doing the right thing, leaving Carl and Judith behind to go on a possible death mission.

Rick scrubbed a hand over his face.

_Life was unfair. _

How was he supposed to choose between being an honourable man and a stable father? He used to think they were the same thing. Before everything became so damn complicated that he couldn't figure out the difference between right and wrong.

He looked down at the silent phone again.

_Please, baby. Tell me what to do._

The sun was peeking through the windows across from him and he heard the heavy door squeak on it's rusty hinges. He looked up to see the woman, Michonne, descending the steps. She was dressed, her katana strapped across her back.

"We're all ready to move out," she told him, her voice low and guarded. She seemed to trust him less than he trusted her.

Rick nodded and relocated the phone to a new spot beside him. He used the desk to pull himself up, his feet igniting in rapid tingling as blood rushed to his lower extremities.

"Waiting for a call?" Michonne asked, dark coal-like eyes settling on the phone.

Rick met her eyes straight on as they locked gazes. "I think I'm going crazy," he admitted, swallowing hard. He wasn't sure why he said it aloud, and to her out of anyone.

Michonne's face remained stoic and she nodded. "Good," she finally said. "When you're crazy people are less likely to fuck with you." She turned her back to him and started up the steps, still limping on her sore leg.

"Can I trust you?" He asked her, following her slowly.

She passed through the boiler room door without looking back at him. He figured she wasn't going to answer, and they walked in silence until they reached the door that would take them outside into the prison yard. Her hand rested on the handle that would open it and she paused. "Don't trust anyone," she warned. "All the good people've gone nuts… and the ones who haven't- they're the most dangerous of us all."


	12. ShaneCarlRick- Can you hear me?

**Requested by LAJB who wanted a Shane/Carl moment. **

**To make your own request friend me on Facebook at "PrintDust Fanfiction" or submit a review. Thanks. **

* * *

Carl could hear his mom and Carol chatting on the other side of the tent. He looked over his shoulder to see them both elbow deep in buckets of water as they scrubbed clothes. Carl had opted to watch the fire again, anything to get out of helping with the laundry. It was so boring listening to his mom and Carol talk about boring stuff like cooking and what things were like before the Geeks came. Sometimes his mom got sad when she talked about it, 'cause she would talk about his dad and Carl didn't like to think about it or it would make him sad too.

Using a long stick he jabbed at one of the logs in the fire pit and nudged it over until sparks flew up. If his mom was paying attention she would nag at him to stop playing with the fire. He shrugged, she was always tellin' him not to do stuff. It was boring when he wasn't allowed to do anything cool. He looked over at one of the men who was living in the camp: Daryl.

Daryl was crabby but really cool, Carl decided. He knew how to use a bow-and-arrow thing, and he could hunt and always brought back meat for the camp. And he made a hammock out of a net one time, like he wasn't even scared of the Geeks. Carl wanted to be like Daryl, he decided, and learn how to shoot a gun and sleep outside and hunt. _If_ his mom would just let him do anything by himself _ever_.

If his dad was there…

Carl looked back down at the fire, ignoring the thought. His dad was dead, and Shane said that they needed to move on and focus on surviving. Except, he didn't like to think that his dad was really never gonna come back. He looked at Shane who was setting up a radio not far from the fire pit. Carl got to his feet and tossed his poking stick onto the ground. He approached Shane, brushing dirt and leaves off his pants. "What are you doing?" He asked kneeling down beside the radio to see.

"This here is a C.B. Radio," Shane said adjusting a silver antennae. "It means Citizens Band…"

Carl reached forward to turn one of the dials. He jumped and pulled his hand away when the radio squealed. He looked up at Shane who laughed and clapped him on the back. Carl relaxed, laughing a little too. "Why do we need it?"

"In case someone else has a radio, so we can tell them where we are," Shane explained fiddling with a knob that was labeled _Squelch_. "You see," he explained, picking up a mouthpiece that was attached to a long spiral cord. "You press this button to speak," he demonstrated, silencing the dead air sound. "And then you release it to listen."

"I don't hear anyone," Carl said, shaking his head. He trained his ear to the constant rushing sound to see if he could pick out even a faint voice.

"That's 'cause it's a piece of-," Shane cut himself off and flicked a switch, turning off the C.B. "dung," he finally finished. "Now you get back to your chores before your mama has to ride you," he ordered.

Carl sighed and nodded, disappointed that they couldn't talk to anyone on the radio. He turned around and started back towards the fire. He stopped a few feet shy of the pit and turned back to Shane, "How far can it reach?"

Shane shrugged. "Depends. One time I got a guy all the way in California. But most of the time it's pretty short range. Few miles or so."

Carl dropped his chin and picked up his fire stick again. He sat down heavily on a chair and poked at the embers.

XXXX

It was pitch black in the tent as Carl waited for his mom to go to sleep. She hadn't moved for a while, so when he was pretty sure she wasn't awake he crawled out of his sleeping bag and felt his way towards the tent door. He opened the zipper real slow so as he wouldn't make too much noise. When there was just enough space for him to fit he squeezed out and froze, his eyes searching the dark for any movement. It seemed like everyone had gone to sleep except Dale who was sitting on top of the Winnebago.

He imagined he was like Daryl on a hunt, and he kept his body real low to the ground. His feet kept snagging on twigs and things and he crossed his fingers that Dale wouldn't hear him. Carl creeped around the trailer and glanced in the direction of Daryl's hammock to make sure that he was sleeping. Merle seemed to be passed out too, next to his motorcycle, a bottle of something resting in his lap. Carl didn't like Merle at all. His mom didn't seem to either… in fact, most people in the camp didn't like him.

Using his best stealth moves Carl avoided the glow of the fire and snuck around to the other side of the tree stump where Shane had left the C.B. Radio. Carefully he turned the volume way down and then turned the radio on. It crackled a little and he held his breath. His eyes darted around the camp. Dale hadn't even looked over in his direction so he picked up the hand-piece.

Using his thumb he pressed the button like Shane had showed him and took a deep breath. "Dad?" he whispered, licking his lips. "If you can hear me… it's Carl." He waited, his ear pressed up against the speaker. He didn't hear anything except the constant static, so he pressed the button again. "If you can hear me, Dad, please find us…" he thought he knew what he wanted to say, but now he wasn't sure. The sound of someone turning over in their tent startled him and he knew he was out of time. "Mom misses you," he said quickly then turned off the radio to go back to bed.

Maybe he would try again tomorrow.


	13. RickLori- Smile Again

**To make your own request friend me on Facebook at "PrintDust Fanfiction" or submit a review. Thanks. **

**I've had terrible writer's block, so this was just to get my feet wet again.**

* * *

He can't remember the last time he saw her smile. Perhaps when she had found them on the road after everything had gone down on the farm. Time had stretched out long and thin between then and now, marked by exhaustion, hunger, and cold.

Sure she offered comforting smiles to Beth as she embraced the young woman, and laughed at crisp attempts at humour. But he knew that the upturned corners of her mouth that never reached her eyes were out of a sense of duty. Lori had worn her duty to create normalcy in this world of improvisational living like an iron vest. She cleaned their shirts in the icy waters of whatever steam they came across and stacked their folded blankets neatly in the back of the truck each night after they broke camp.

He knew she was growing weary, but he also knew that the tasks kept her occupied as she fretted internally about their food supply, Carl- himself.

Sitting now on the other side of the fire, he watched her downturned face and she watched the flames as they fought to consume a damp log. Their belly's all cramped with hunger; a single can of beans was not enough to feed them all.

She'd grown thin, her cheekbones hollowed out, the shadows deep on her pale face. Her eyes were dark coals reflecting the glow of the flames. She shifted slowly, wincing, and laid down, curled up beneath an insufficient pink knitted blanket. But she never complained. Not about the back aches that he knew niggled at her since she'd started to show. Not about the hunger. Or the exhaustion. Or the never ending cleaning and washing regiments. Not about Carl's indifference. Or his own impatience and angry words.

She simply ploughed onwards.

But he knew even then that this wouldn't last forever. It couldn't. His hands ached to press against her belly and feel the baby tumble and kick. His arms longed to slide around her and warm her. He wanted to make her smile again.

And he would, one day, he knew.

Just not today.


	14. Andrea- On Duty

This is an Andrea fic to fill a request. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

If there was one thing the apocalypse was good for, it was her tan. She looked down at her toned brown arms and grinned. Taking guard duty on top the Winnebago certainly trumped doing the laundry with Lori and Carol. She looked over at the two other women, elbow deep in lukewarm water and she rolled her eyes. She was still reeling at Lori for her bullshit tirade about knowing her place as a woman...

_Right._

Lori may be satisfied with cleaning pit stains out of Daryl Dixon's shirt, but she sure as hell wouldn't be. She wanted to do something that was actually useful for the group.

She rolled her eyes away from the gossiping women and sank lower into her seat, her sharpshooter resting on her lap.

She wondered how she'd ended up here, at the end of the world. Surrounded by people who couldn't even carry on a decent conversation. Two housewives, an ex mechanic… a pizza delivery boy and a Redneck. As an ex-lawyer she craved some real mental stimulation. It wasn't their fault- different strokes- but it was something she missed from her old life. She missed the thrill of a good debate, the challenge of finding the right loop-hole, creating the perfect alternative scenario that would drive her point home. She'd tried to play the devil's advocate within the current context of their situation, but it seemed to go over everyone else's head.

Rick was alright, she supposed, but he was lacking in… something. He needed to get his head on straight and realize that his old ways were going to get them all killed in this world. And Shane was bat-shit, but at least he didn't let himself become clouded by poor judgment and dead ideologies. Plus, he was a good fuck, so there was that. And God knew how much she needed that release these days.

Glancing around the camp again, Andrea spotted the ex-sheriff's deputy chopping firewood in the clearing, his muscles rippling as he raised the axe high over his head and then brought it down with a heavy _whack_. He certainly wasn't the type that she would have picked in her old life… she wasn't even sure she would pick him now, but she was game if he was. Maybe that's what they all needed, a little release.

Tensions had been running high in the group.

The sound of someone climbing the ladder pulled her attention to behind her and she spun around in her chair to see Dale's hat peek over the edge off the roof. The old man's entire body followed and he moved into the spot next to her.

"You can go hand off your clothes to Lori and Carol to wash," he offered. "I'll take over for a bit."

Andrea pushed herself to her feet. "Thank God," she grinned. "I can feel my skin crawling in this shirt; it's so grimy."

She handed to gun to the man who had become her pseudo-father (as reluctant as she was to accept it) in this messed up world. As much as she still resented him for the way he had pushed her, and the ultimatum he had offered at the CDC, she loved him. He'd never waivered in his devotion to her and his support.

"Thanks, Dale," she squeezed his arm and climbed down the ladder to make her way over to the other two women in their group.


	15. Daryl&Judith- Tell Me

I might run with this story a bit. Let me know if you would be interested in reading a multi-chapter with Daryl and Judith.

* * *

The fire popped and sizzled in the pit below them, its embers picked up and tossed into the night air by the cool wind that whipped through the trees. He lay on his back on the hammock that he had created out of a camping tarp and sleeping bag. Daryl'd secured it between two old growth oaks, high 'nough off the ground that they were outta the arm's length of any Walker that might be stumblin' through the woods in the dead o' night.

He'd hoped that they'd find a semi-permanent place by now. Somewhere they could settle down in to ride out the winter. If it stretched out as long as it had last year they'd need a miracle to pull through it at this rate.

The little girl on his chest shifted and let out a sweet sigh. Her four-year-old hand flexed and reached up to grasp the collar on his jacket.

He looked down to find her blue eyes peering up at him. Her cherub cheek was highlighted by the glow of the fire below them and her little brow furrowed. "Daryl?" She asked, her lower lip sticking out.

"Should be sleepin'," he told her firmly.

"I can't," she whined softly, while still laying her head down obediently. Her cheek settled like a cushion over his heart. "Tell me 'bout 'em 'gain."

Daryl huffed. Damn same thing every damn night with her… he reached out to lay his palm over her ear and he used his thumb to stroke her baby-soft hair. She closed her eyes again, listening. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist his Little Ass-Kicker.

"Well," he said, closing his own eyes. "Your Mama was a pain in the ass. Always had somethin' to say 'bout everythin'… but she loved you. She gave up her life for ya'… and your big brother, Carl…" he opened his eyes to look down at the little girl. "He was a pussy at first. Always whinin', a real pain in the ass; wanderin' off and causin' shit all the time. But he grew up and he was kinda decent. Saved your life y'know a million times."

The fire popped again and one of the logs shifted, its base crumbling into ash. Judith stiffened against him and he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her closer. "And your daddy," Daryl sighed. "He was a good man, Jude. You're lucky to come from his stock."

Daryl pressed a kiss to the thick mop of brown hair that had grown real long, half-way to her ass. He'd tried to cut it a few times, but she'd thrown a real fit 'bout that since he'd told her it was just like her mama's.

Judith's breaths became slow deep wisps against his neck and he looked straight up at the canopy of barren branches above them, his mind drifting into the past.

_Chaos, the word came to mind as he fought hand to hand with the men from Woodbury. They'd come onto the prison like soldiers in one of them old stories that he'd learned 'bout in school. Guns blazin' they'd taken the yard easily, cornerin' their own group and drivin' 'em back into the prison. Hershel'd gone down fast, not quick enough to escape the first spray of the bullets. _

_Carol'd been next as she'd crouched over the baby, her thin body taking shot after shot until it'd given out in a bloody shriek of agony. Daryl'd watched it happen from his perch, his crossbow braced against his shoulder as he fired arrows easily through the air. He'd moved quickly then, leaping over the railing like some damn gymnast or somethin'. He'd reached the baby first, assured by Michonne that she would cover him. _

_The six-month-old baby'd been sprayed somethin' awful with blood and he'd picked her up, still wrapped in her mama's pink blanket. Michonne had kept her word as he ducked out of the cell, the baby tight against his chest, shrieking. Rick and Carl moved ahead of him with Maggie and Glenn as they fled for the back door._

_"Run!" Carl barked, shoving Daryl passed him. "We'll cover you."_

_Daryl looked to Rick next who nodded. "Keep her safe. We'll meet you back on the highway, where we stopped that first day that we found this place."_

_Without looking back Daryl held the bundle of blankets and baby to his chest and fled._

Rick and Carl'd never shown up to meet him. He'd waited for hours, and then checked in everyday for god knew how long. Eventually he'd had to move on, on account of that they'd run out of supplies. The prison had become overrun again by Walkers and the Governor's men and the closest town had been picked clean by Woodbury.

"Soon we'll find 'em?" Judith asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He hadn't realized she was still awake.

Daryl looked down at her. "Go to sleep," he ordered firmly, running his hand up and down her back.

She scrunched her face and then nodded burying her nose into the centre of his chest. "G'night, Daryl," she whispered.


	16. LoriRick&Glenn- Setting Up

The earth lay blanketed beneath a thin sheet of crisp snow. They'd cleared out a roadside gas station and taken shelter within the tiny service shop that sat on the edge of the property, its oil stained concrete floor a blessing compared to the damp frozen earth outside. An old pickup sat up on blocks over a service pit and Rick had wordlessly placed Lori's blanket and bag on the seat, silently claiming it for her.

She looked over to where Daryl was draining mostly empty bottles into an oil pan for them. When he caught her curious look he shrugged, "For a fire."

Lori nodded back and looked around the shop towards the tool-bench that had captured Glenn's attention.

She sighed and walked heavily over to the small kitchenette, her hand bracing her achy back. The cupboards and fridge were empty and smelled of trapped moisture. Small mouse droppings littered the shelves and she shuddered, turning her back to the area, hoping that Carl and Rick would have better luck in the convenience store.

Her stomach rumbled and she rubbed her bump, silently promising the baby that they would get something to eat soon. She hoped.

She spotted a sheet of plywood propped up against the far wall and made her way over to it; the wood would be more comfortable than the concrete floor. It was heavier than she expected when she tried to move it and she grunted with the effort.

Icy fingers rested on her shoulder and she half-turned to find Glenn giving her a concerned look. She indicated the floor with his chin and his expression shifted to one of understanding. Together they moved the board away from the wall, severing several spider webs in the process. Lori's back protested the weight and awkward shape of the board and she sighed with relief when they finally dropped it in place, kicking up dust.

"Goin' on'a hunt," Daryl got to his feet. He picked up his crossbow and headed for the door. "I'll hang by hammock 'tween the gap in the pit."

Lori looked to the space, concerned that the truck wouldn't be secure. Before she could voice her thoughts though, the Redneck had already left, banging the door behind him. A rush of cold air swept through the room in his wake and she shivered again.

Glenn reached over to touch her arm and she turned to meet his concerned gaze. She nodded, assuring him that she was fine. The Asian man's hand came to rest on the small of her back and he guided her over to the truck, ignoring her protesting expression.

He helped her take a seat on the passenger side of her the truck, her legs dangling over the edge of the seat out of the open door. Lori offered him another look to try to discourage his worry.

"If he isn't going to take care of you-," Glenn began, but pursed his lips when the door opened again and Rick and Carl filtered in, bringing the cold in with them.

The former paused, and his eyes swept over the scene before him, his brow crinkled with the almost permanent scowl that he had been wearing for weeks. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand onto Carl's shoulder. Rick pushed the boy forward, nudging him in his mother's direction before stalking across the room, his feet leaving a trail of mud across the wooden board on the floor.

Carl avoided his mother's gaze as he approached her with a small jar in his hands. He gave it to her without saying a word and then went to join his father.

Lori turned the jar of peanut-butter over in her hands, her mouth already starting to water at the thought of eating it. Her stomach growled and she pressed her hand over the spot where the baby seemed to be kicking in anticipation. Her eyes shot up to meet Glenn's darker ones and she offered him a shy smile. "We'll share it," she promised, slowly easing off the seat.

Rick's jaw ticked at her words and he shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Her smile wobbled and she looked down at the jar again.


	17. LoriRick&Daryl- The Ring

No one knew how long exactly it had been since they had lost the farm to the herd of Walkers that had blown through it. They had been weaving their way across the state ever since, like refugees in a land that had been seized from beneath them. They sought refuge in empty buildings, curled up on the floor with their meager blankets, clinging to each other for warmth; it had become too risky to light fires most nights.

They scoured through ravaged kitchens, eating whatever they could find, their shaking fingers scooping sweet goopy beans or waxy vegetables from tins that they pried open with hunting knives.

Rick declared his decisions early each morning, gathering the group to their weary feet and moving on to the next place that they hoped would hold more opportunity for them to settle down, rest, and feed their starving bodies.

Despite her hunger Lori found herself battling nausea through most of the nights. Carefully, she would crawl out from her spot between Carl and whoever else, and step over the obstacle course of bodies until she reached the door that would take her to a place more private, usually outside. There was always someone on watch so she wasn't overly concerned about her lack of awareness of her surroundings while she heaved over the side of a porch or into a drain.

If it was Maggie or Carol on watch, she would have someone to hold back her hair while she retched. Glenn would pat her back and then help her to her feet once she was finished. He had taken to keeping a bottle of water with him so he would have something to offer her.

Daryl averted his eyes when he saw her coming out, though he never hesitated to follow her. He would stand a few feet away, a silent guardian with his crossbow scanning their surroundings for any danger. When she was finished he would make a crack about wasting good food, but his hand on her shoulder while he escorted her back inside betrayed his gruff exterior.

Lori wasn't sure what Rick would do. She protected herself from his probable apathy by suppressing her urge to vomit until after he was off shift. Puking her guts up every night was hard enough without having him give her the cold shoulder while she was doing it.

She wondered if it was the lack of sleep and dehydration that drove her close enough to insanity that she finally approached him on their third day staying in a small trailer park south of Atlanta.

"Do you think we could talk?" Lori approached her husband, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders in an effort to fend off the cold. The grass was brittle under her boots, small ice crystals shattering with each step.

Rick kept his back to her as he scanned the woods that surrounded their little camp. He didn't answer her but he tilted his head to let her know he was listening.

"I think we need to talk," Lori began, pausing to take a breath.

Rick's forceful sigh expressed his exasperation, and he cut her off. "I need space, Lori. You think you could do that? Back off for ten minutes and let me breathe? Jesus."

"I think you've had plenty of space," she answered, drawing on her courage reserves. Every self-preserving instinct was telling her to run, but she held her ground. "We can't keep doing this. It's hurting the group... Carl... And it's killing me."

"What do you want from me, Lori?"

She pursed her lips and hugged her blanket tighter. "I want you to look at me. And I want you to make a decision about us." When he didn't respond she reached out to touch his arm. "Rick," she tried again, keeping her voice soft- pleading.

He shoved her away, hard enough that she was forced to take a step back to keep her balance. Surprise registered on both of their faces, but his expression shifted back into indignation after a brief check that he hadn't done any physical damage.

Lori crossed her arms protectively over the tiny swell of her belly and turned to look over his shoulder. After a deep calming breath she met his eyes again. "I understand that you're angry, but-," she flinched as his jaw ticked and he rested his hand on his belt.

"_But_," he mimicked harshly. "Always a _but_ with you. Can't ever be sorry without a but, can you?"

She shook her head, the first sign of tears beginning to build in her eyes. She blinked them back, just barely. "I didn't mean..."

"You want a decision about this, Lori?" Rick's voice was eerily calm as he avoided her eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily. He nodded, his lip curling. "I got a decision for you. Why don't you take your half-assed apologies, and your buts and your god damn," his hands collided with one-another and he yanked his wedding band off his left hand. "Take the whole damn thing 'cause I'm over it."

Without another word he tossed the gold ring high over her head and past the tree-line behind her. Lori whipped around to watch the gold flash disappear into the shadows of the green shrubbery as her tears finally escaped with a heavy sob. Rick stalked away, back towards the trailer where Carol was serving up dinner.

She moved towards the woods to search for the ring, her heart racing as she fought back the urge to panic or vomit- or both. A steady hand on her shoulder stopped her in place. Looking through a misty veil of tears her eyes met with Daryl Dixon's; she hadn't realized they'd had an audience.

"Ain't gonna go rootin' 'round in there; suns goin' down," he released his hold on her and jutted his chin in the same direction where Rick had gone.

Lori closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. She didn't feel comfortable about crying in front of Daryl. Her resolve, however, did nothing to stop the next few tears that trickled down her cheeks and over her quivering lips.

"Get on back," he patted her shoulder, the gesture clearly awkward and uncomfortable for him. "Clean yerself up. Yer boy don't need to be seein' that neither."

Lori nodded and with a final glance towards the woods behind her she turned to shuffle back to camp where she joined the others around the small campfire for skewered possum and wild salad and then turned in early.

The possum gave her heartburn. She woke that night holding her chest as acid burned her esophagus and left an awful taste in the back of her throat.

Careful not to disturb Carol and her son, she climbed to her feet and headed for the thin door on the side of the trailer. She didn't bother with her coat or shoes as she slipped outside into the biting cold. Passing Daryl quickly, she rested one hand on her stomach and the other on her sternum. She barely made it a few feet from the trailer before she collapsed to her knees and retched, throwing up her dinner next to the still smouldering fire pit.

Exhausted and miserable she sobbed between each contraction of her stomach. Cold sweat formed on her forehead and in the small of her back, and her arms trembled beneath her slight weight; she was sure they would give out on her until toned arms slipped around her waist and guided her back until she was settled against a hard surface. He remained crouched in front of her, his arms at his sides as he watched her cry softly into her hands.

When she had calmed down enough to catch her breath she looked up to find him still sitting next to her.

"Gonna catch yer death sittin' out here," his eyes indicated her bare feet pointedly. "Or get the anal veins."

Lori's eyes widened a little and a small short laugh burst from her chest. "Thanks," she scrubbed her eyes with her palms. "Just what I needed, a visual of hemorrhoids."

Daryl didn't react to her sudden change in mood other than to shrug passively and move to settle against the log beside her, his poncho covered shoulder barely touching hers. "My Gran used'ta get 'em," he tucked his chin into his chest and hunkered further down. "Some nasty shit."

Lori nodded in agreement, a small smile making its way over her lips. She turned her face away to look at the ground before her. Every time she tried to look at him she would feel her throat begin to swell with emotion again.

"I uh," Daryl's voice took on a light tone, though his hesitation showed that he was nervous as he dug around in his pant pockets beneath his poncho. "I found this," he pulled his hand out and offered her his closed fist.

Lori hesitated for a moment before offering her hand. He dropped something small onto her palm and then retreated quickly, clearing his throat. As she stared at the ring in her hand he filled the silence. "Was gonna give it back to him, tell him to stop bein' such a dickhead, but," he shrugged. "Figured that weren't my place."

"Thank you," Lori folded her fingers around the gold band and raised it to hold it over her heart. She turned to watch him get to his feet and brush himself off before he trudged back to the trailer.

When he reached the trailer door he rested his hand on the handle and turned back in her direction. "Best get yer ass back inside. Don't wanna hear about it when yer up the duff _and_ sick."

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**Don't forget to leave a review! Thanks. **


	18. LoriRick- The Expectation

The cracked and peeling storm door screeched on its old hinges and he cringed at the sound as stepped carefully through it and into the small foyer of their new home. The house was silent, which in itself wasn't unexpected; she was usually napping during the hottest time of day. He'd find his lunch on the top shelf in the fridge next to the snack that he would take with him for later. The domesticity of it all was not lost on him and it warmed him thoroughly.

He weaved his way through the obstacle course of unpacked boxes, painting supplies and plastic covered furniture until he found himself in the kitchen. The modest room was the most intact- Lori had insisted they tackle it first so they wouldn't be tempted to order in every night. She'd laughed and told him it was hard enough keeping her figure without eating junk.

Rick's lunch was where he'd expected it to be with a small post-it donning a quickly drawn heart stuck to the Saran wrap covering it. Under her drawing were instructions for heating the meal. He scrunched them up inside the clear paper and deposited the wad into the garbage can on his way to the microwave. It was like she had forgotten that he had lived on his own before; he knew how to use a microwave.

With his meal heating, Rick pulled out the glass of chilled strawberry tea and made his way to the bedroom. He'd expected to find her curled up under the sheet, her painted toes peeking out from the bottom the way they always did. He liked to watch her sleep, her hair splayed out across both their pillows and her hands crossed over her heart. When he entered the back hall and leaned against the doorway to their room, he was surprised to find the bed still neatly made and decidedly unoccupied.

Frowning with confusion and a touch of concern he checked their small en-suit first, and then ducked around to search the rest of the house. When he didn't find her in the living room, dining room or den he found himself in the hallway again, listening to the microwave beeping. His eyes settled on the room next to their own and he shook his head at his own foolishness. Stepping over the clutter in the hall he let his fingers linger on the silver antique knob for a moment before he turned it and pushed the door open.

The uncovered windows allowed the freshly painted room to fill with boisterous sunlight. The light blue walls were stark against the room, empty but for the comfortable chez longue that had gotten her so excited when they'd found it in a second hand store. He'd rolled his eyes at her giddiness, though he'd been touched by her lit smile and the way she laid her head on his shoulder as he paid for it.

He found her now curled up on the freshly stuffed and reupholstered piece, her elbow propped up on a blue and white cushion. Her green eyes flicked back and forth over the pages of a large book that she had opened onto her lap. It took her a moment, but when she looked up at him his stomach fluttered and his heart skipped. _Beautiful_.

He nodded to the book. "What are you reading?"

Lori turned the pages around so he could see. "It's my old baby book. My mom dropped it by this morning," she tapped one of the pictures with her finger. "This is my first model shoot," she joked, turning the book around again to look at the infant dressed head to toe in a delicately crocheted outfit.

Rick swallowed, watching her.

She looked up at him. "Well, if you aren't going to say anythin', the least you could do is come over here and kiss me, Mr. Grimes." She closed the book and placed it beside her on the chair.

"Yes, ma'am," he spoke around the lump in his throat and kneeled before her, his hand finding her cheek on its own accord. Slowly, he leaned in to capture her mouth with his own, and then left a trail of tiny kisses over her cheek then down her neck until he found her shoulder.

His other hand sought her rounded belly where their son moved lazily against his palm. "We should get one of those for the baby," he suggested, getting to his feet. She grasped his hands and he pulled her up with him until they were standing as close as they could with their baby between them.

"That's what the baby shower is for," she chirped and stepped around him.

Rick ran a hand through his curls and watched her waddle heavily from the room. _Great_, he thought, following her towards the kitchen. _A houseful of women cooing over socks and stuffed lambs. _He shuddered at the thought. He'd be sure to see what Shane was doing that day- maybe they could take in a game or something.

"Rick," Lori's voice filtered from the kitchen. "How long did you turn this microwave on for?"


	19. GrimesFamily- This Different Life

I know it is short! This little ficlet is really to get my feet wet again. I'm kind of out of practice... Also, it is a thank you to di311 who has absolutely spoiled me with reviews these last couple of days.

Enjoy!

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"Come on, sweetheart," Lori called over her shoulder, settling the basket of laundry onto her hip as she turned around. Her small daughter toddled along behind her, her little feet protected from the worn prison floors by a pair of knitted booties, made with love from Aunt Carol. The baby looked up with her earthy eyes that matched her mother's and let out a grunt that ended with a small giggle, her mouth twisted into a wobbly smile.

Lori felt her heart seize and she slowly lowered the laundry basket to the floor as she crouched down. "Well, aren't you all kind of sass today… where'd you get that from? You sound like a little animal," she put her hand out and waited patiently for Judith to stumble her way over, still unpracticed and unsteady on her feet.

The baby's fingers found her mother's outstretched ones and she closed a much larger index finger into her palm. The loss of concentration made Judith waiver and Lori used her unoccupied had to steady the small girl.

"I don't know about this walking thing," Lori lifted the baby to her chest and got to her feet again, securing Judith on her hip. "Pretty soon you'll be quick enough to wander off like your big brother…" Smoothing one hand over Judith's cheek, she tucked an errant sandy ringlet behind a seashell ear. Judith followed the motion with her head and laid it down on her mother's shoulder, her feet drumming loosely against the hip opposite of the one she was propped up on.

The door behind Lori opened, signalling someone's entrance into the block, and she turned in time to find her husband and son entering, their arms heavy with firewood. "Speak of the devil," she shifted the baby higher and secured her with both arms as the rest of her family approached her.

"Yes! Clean pants!" Carl commented enthusiastically, eyeing the basket. "I'm gonna change now."

Lori's felt maternal pride swell inside her. The aching back from crouching over a basin and the raw skin on her fingers from scrubbing were well worth it for the satisfaction of knowing that she was providing for her son in whatever way she could. "Nah uh," she shook her head, her voice low. "Shower first."

Carl groaned and griped under his breath about cold water. Turning away from the pre-teen, Lori's eyes sought her husband's as he whistled, indicating with his chin for Carl to come closer. When he was within reach he eased his load of wood onto the top of Carl's, almost blocking the boy's eyes. Arching his back, Carl picked his way slowly toward the common room where they had vented a small iron wood-burning stove.

Lori watched him go for a moment before Rick's voice pulled her attention away. "Need some help with that?" he nodded to the basket at her feet.

She glanced between the basket and the baby in her arms before nodding, offering him an appreciative smile. "I guess the walk from the laundry room tuckered her out," she mused, pressing a kiss to the curve of her sleeping daughter's forehead.

Rick grunted in agreement, picking up the basket.

"So that's where she gets it from," Lori fell into step beside him as they made their way in the same direction their son had gone.

"What?" Rick asked, keeping his eyes on the floor ahead of them.

"She sounds like a… bear cub sometimes," Lori chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder with her own. "I love you, but, I do hope she winds up with _my_ communication skills."

One corner of her husband's mouth twisted up into a small smile and he peered at their daughter out of the corner of his eye. "I love you too," he muttered, his voice raw. His adam's apple dipped as he swallowed before looking ahead of them again.

A thin sheen of tears glassed over her eyes at his words and she was instantly hungry to hear him say them again. They had only begun sharing a bed again a few weeks before, and though there was still an unmistakable distance between them - it felt like they had finally stopped drifting apart.

Nodding, Lori blinked back her tears and pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder before they parted ways. Stepping inside the living area, she sent a quick nod to Carol across the room and slipped into the cell she shared with Rick and Judith. The baby grunted in her sleep as she was lowered onto the bottom bunk, her limbs floppy and loose. Lori covered her with a thin sheet and kissed the constellation of freckles on her button nose before heading out to make sure Carl hadn't decided to skip his shower.


	20. LoriRick- Taking It Back

This is a follow-up to my other one-shot, 'The Ring'. You might want to give that one a read-over first if you haven't done so already.

I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine. I may catch them later and go back in to fix them.

Enjoy!

* * *

She woke slowly, feeling foggy and confused about where she was and why she appeared to be moving. The car dipped and bounced as one tire rolled into a pothole and she winced as her forehead connected with the window that she had apparently fallen asleep against. Blinking rapidly, she cleared her vision and took a moment to watch the passing scenery: a small town that didn't seem to be much more than a main street.

It had begun to snow again while she had been napping and she tilted her head up to peer at the heavy sky above them, its grey, pregnant clouds hanging low and swollen. Sitting back in her seat, she glanced around the car - Carol and Hershel were speaking quietly in the backseat over her shoulder, pointing out tiny shops that seemed to still be intact. Rick sat behind the wheel beside, stiff and silent.

Laying her head back against the seat, she allowed her eyes to drift half-closed and she watched the snow flakes drift over the windshield, wondering if they would stop here for the night. She hoped so; she was hungry and the car smelled like urine and sweat. She cleared her throat and reached for the bottle of water in the cup holder attached to the console, ignoring her husband's flinch. Contrary to his expectation, she remained silent and wordlessly settled back into her seat, lifting the bottle to her lips.

They had almost reached the edge of town when Rick tapped the horn, stopping the Hyundai and black pick-up that sandwiched them. Her husband, if he even was that anymore, slipped out of the car and waited for the other drivers to convene. Lori sighed and turned back to her window to inspect the store closest to them: a bridal shop. She inspected the mannequins in the window, posed to show and groom dipping his bride across his knee. The gown was simple and beautiful: floor-length, silk, with a dropped neckline; it reminded her of her own.

Slowly, she lifted her hand and slipped it under the neckline of her knitted sweater, her fingers finding the chain that was draped around her neck. Following the white-gold links she found the end and closed her hand around the gold band that she had secured there about a month before. The metal was warm from her body heat and she lifted the ring out, letting it drop onto her index finger, too loose to stay in place. Lifting it, she rested the smooth edge against her lips, a habit she had developed since it had come into her possession.

Her mind turned to that day, when Rick had pitched the ring into the woods in anger. As she turned the memory over in her mind she felt her eyes begin to water and she admonished herself. She wouldn't cry when there were others there to witness it – they didn't need her to burden them any further.

Instead, she fast-forwarded to later that night when Daryl had returned the piece of jewellery to her, his presentation both endearingly-awkward and self-conscious. The door popped open and she jumped at the sound. Scrambling, she tucked the ring back inside her shirt and wrapped her arms around her rounded belly.

"We'll stop here for the night," Rick's voice was gravelly as he turned the engine over and eased the car into line behind the green hatchback. They pulled around the block and into the alley behind the main shops. Rick slipped out first and began moving garbage cans away from the car, slowly placing them down noiselessly. Lori got out too, her hand bracing her protesting back. Her stiff joints and tailbone ached and she took a couple of careful steps around to stretch. She heard the springs on the back of the pick-up squeak as Daryl hopped out, his crossbow loaded and ready as he scanned the back of the alley.

When he made it to the small group, he glanced up and Lori followed his gaze to the fire-escape above them. A hand landed on her shoulder and she looked to the grimy calloused fingers first, and then trailed over a toned forearm, up over a muscular bicep to meet Daryl's face. He applied pressure to his hold on her and moved her, forcing her to take a step backwards. With her out of the way, he hopped up and grabbed the chain on the fire-escaped, the weight of his body pulling it down.

Lori grimaced as the metal ground against itself, scratching in the otherwise silent alley. Daryl and T-Dog took the lead and began climbing, followed by Carol and then Lori. The metal was cold and rusty against her bare hands as she began to climb, keeping her eyes upwards. Her exhausted and malnourished body was out of breath by the time she reached the first level and she was grateful to find the window propped open, signalling the end of her climb. T-Dog helped her over the frame and she muttered a _thank you_, wincing at the exhaustion in her voice.

The apartment was small and it took her less than a minute to explore the entire thing. She took her time in the bathroom, pausing to explore under the sink and the medicine cabinet. Using the empty garbage can she began collecting supplies: some unopened toothbrushes, a small first aid kit, and –on a shrug- a box of condoms; she figured Glenn and Maggie would be grateful.

On her way out she tried the taps on the bathtub and felt her heart pick up speed when the pipes groaned. The spout shuddered and vomited thick, rusty water into the porcelain bottom of the tub before going dry. Lori felt her shoulders fall in disappointment as she picked up her bucket to leave. She was almost out of the door when a solid thud sounded behind her followed by rushing water. Whipping around she steadied herself with her hand on the doorway and just watched the small clear waterfall spilling from the tap.

"Is that -," Maggie was suddenly by her side, and then pushing past her into the room.

Lori was jostled again as Carl and Beth fought their way into the bathroom too.

"Me first," Beth breathed, then met Lori's eyes and flushed, casting her eyes away shyly. "I mean... if no one else is calling it," she added softly.

"You're up then," Lori patted the girl's shoulder before heading back into the living room, smiling to herself.

The apartment was surprisingly tidy and clean compared to the accommodations they had become accustomed to. Lori sat back on her calves on the kitchen floor, listening to the sound of a freshly bathed Beth humming as she helped Carol prepare dinner. Lori had collected everyone's clothes one-by-one as they each took their turn bathing. She'd filled one large bucket with soap and water, and then another with fresh water to create a washing station. Rick's shirt in her hand seeped blood and filth, instantly colouring the water as she rubbed the fabric together.

Her back protested her position on the floor and she was looking forward to her turn in the tub. She just hoped there would be some hot water left for her.

When Rick came through, scrubbed clean and beard trimmed, she swept her eyes over him appreciatively. Tearing her eyes away she gave herself a mental shake – her second trimester hormones were definitely giving her a run for her money. She craved her husband both physically and emotionally.

"You're up," Carol offered her a hand up.

Lori looked down at the soaking laundry and hesitated. "I don't mind going last."

Carol's wiggled her fingers in response and Lori accepted the help getting to her feet. "Thanks," she whispered, bracing her back with both hands. The other woman motioned with her hand again and Lori slowly began to peel off her sweater, and then handed it over. She took a quick glance around and mapped out the rest of the group. Establishing that she was in the clear she quickly slipped off the rest of her clothes and dropped them one-by-one into the washing tub.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Carol watching her and she glanced over, feeling an odd mixture of pride and self-consciousness. Her hand made its way over to rest on her bare rounded belly.

"I'm jealous," Carol laughed, turning back to the stove. "I was a hippo when I was pregnant."

Lori felt herself smile as she quickly slipped her necklace over her head and looped it over a handle on one of the cupboards. "I'm sure that isn't true," she assured the other woman on her way down the hall.

The bathroom was warm and steamy when she slipped inside and a small laugh bubbled inside of her at the sight of the tub. Turning the tap she watched it fill for a few moments before eagerly slipping inside, unable to wait any longer. Sliding down until her knees were bent, but her shoulders were covered she let her eyes drift closed.

One of the reasons Daryl suggested the apartment was the chimney that rose over the roof and ducked down into the corner of the living room, leading to a large fireplace. They ate, piled up on the couches and arm chairs, feeling warm, clean, and recharged. Lori wore an over-sized t-shirt and jogging pants, pilfered from the closet in the bedroom, her still damp hair braided and dripping over her shoulder. She kept her eyes fixed on her food, content in the room, silent with the exception of cutlery scraping against bowls.

They decided to turn in for the night and postpone cleaning up until tomorrow. Lori took the couch, leaving the bedroom for Maggie and Glenn who hadn't had a moment to themselves for weeks. Lori made sure to leave the condoms on the bedside table; the last thing they needed was _another_ pregnancy slowing them down.

She was just drifting off, her hand drifting by habit to clasp the ring when she realized that she had forgot to put it on. Carefully, she stepped over her sleeping son and made her way into the kitchen to retrieve her necklace. It was still dangling where she had left it, glinting in the flame of the candle that had been left burning on the counter.

Picking it up, she slipped it over her head and started back to the living room, her fingers twisting around the chain. She froze mid-step when she realized that her locket was the solo charm dangling from the chain. Her first reaction was to panic, but she swallowed it back. Taking a calming breath, she glanced around the room. First at Carol - asleep closest to the fire – and shook her head: Carol wouldn't have touched it. Beth was quickly ruled out next… she frowned, and took another deep breath before turning to Rick, who was sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room, staring out the window.

Her eyes sought out his hand where his ring sat nestled comfortably on his finger for the first time in a month. Swallowing, she felt confusion first, until his eyes met hers and held them. Lori smile was watery and she quickly wiped her tears away, offering him a tight nod. Rick averted his eyes again, severing the first connection they had shared in what felt like a lifetime.

Sniffing, she swallowed her tears and stepped away, returning to the couch. She turned her back to the room and let the tears dribble unchecked over her cheeks, hope fluttering in her chest.


End file.
